It was a late autumn morning, the kind where one begins to debate whether to turn on the heating. Taking advantage of the store’s day off, Mika visited the manager’s house to discuss something important.

“So, that’s why… I’m truly sorry, but I’d like to take about two months off.”

“Mika, I’m just glad they caught it early. Don’t worry about the store—take two months, three months, whatever you need. Come back whenever you’re ready. If you’re going on chemo, you’ll probably need the rest, but the most important thing is beating this. The rest of us will manage the shifts for the next year, so you just focus on getting better, okay?”

“Yes.”

As she answered, tears welled up in Mika’s eyes.

The cancer she had discovered just a few days ago was still small, but it required surgery. After tearful discussions with her family and her doctor, she had decided to ask the manager for time off, hoping she could return to work after the operation.

“Himawari Mart is my reason for living right now. I know I’ll be causing some trouble, but… thank you for your understanding.”

When she handed over the key to Warehouse No. 4—which she had been keeping safe—the manager pressed it back into Mika’s palm and said,

“It’s fine, this is just a spare key. I want you to bring it back soon, all right? The products you pick out sell really well—they’re a huge help.”

“Oh… thank you. I’ll keep it safe.”

“Actually, if you have a little more time today, I’d like to go over some handover stuff. Would you mind coming with me to Warehouse No. 4 now?”

“Yes, of course. That’s fine.”

On its day off, Himawari Mart was quiet and devoid of people. Entering through the back door, the two grabbed the usual cleaning supplies from the storage area—insecticide, a bamboo broom, a dustpan, and Mika’s favorite rake—before heading to Warehouse No. 4.

The manager pulled out a key with a light green ribbon tied to it.

“See? This is the master key,” she said, using it to unlock the door.

Mika tightened her grip on the rake and peered inside…

There was a small, square room with concrete walls.

“…Huh?”

“What’s wrong, Mika? Aah—KYAAAAAA! The black demon!”

Mika hastily raised her rake—

But all that was there was a single cockroach.

The manager shrieked but quickly dispatched it with the insecticide.

“No matter how many we kill, they just keep coming. Really, where do they even get in from?”

She briskly swept the dead cockroach into the dustpan with the broom and tossed it into a nearby red trash bin.

“Once, I swear, there were like five at once. But now that you’ve been keeping things so clean, Mika, there are way fewer. Must be thanks to you.”

“So… the ‘black demon’ was just a cockroach.”

Mika muttered the words under her breath, but the manager didn’t hear her.